


desire

by justafujoshi



Series: Haikyuu at Hogwarts [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justafujoshi/pseuds/justafujoshi
Summary: “‘I show you not your face, but your heart’s desire’. The Mirror of Erised shows your deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.”Wherein Tooru discovers the Mirror of Erised
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Haikyuu at Hogwarts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032294
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	desire

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by @vilyan.art on IG by her drawing of ‘IwaOi discovers the mirror of erised’.
> 
> Can be read separately from ‘Mistakes were Made’. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Tooru steps into the Gargoyle, unfolding the parchment to read the headmaster’s neat script:

_Oikawa Tooru-kun,_

_Meet me in my office at 5 o’clock sharp this evening. I have matters that I would like to discuss with you._

_The password is ‘Flightless Crow’._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Headmaster Nekomata_

“Flightless crow,” Oikawa shouts. The gargoyle springs to life, spiraling upwards until it comes to a stop in front of an ornate door: the entrance to the headmaster’s office.

Tooru straightens his tie, smooths out his robes, before knocking the brass knocker firmly on the door.

The door swings open, and Tooru tentatively steps in; it’s his first time inside Nekomata’s office in all of the five years he’s enrolled here. He has no idea what to expect, nor does he know of the ‘important matter’ Nekomata wants to discuss with him.

The first thing Tooru sees are shelves. Multiple, wooden shelves with patterns carved into the edges stand tall all around him up to the ceiling, filled to the brim with books, maps, a figure collection of mythical creatures that are currently quietly hissing at one another. There’s even a glass chess set collecting dust up there, and enough potion ingredients to fill up a small apothecary. Tooru could barely keep his mouth shut as his head turns to and fro, trying to take in all this visual stimulation. He had no idea the Headmaster has so many antiques.

So engrossed is he that he accidentally kicks something solid, and it moves with a small groan. Tooru looks down to see a wooden chair, and next to it a large telescope pointing upwards into the open night sky. An excited noise escapes his throat, and being the Astronomy nerd he is, he reaches out, grazes the smooth, cool metal with his fingers.

“A visitor?” A croaky voice sounds, and Tooru immediately withdraws his hand, spinning around to look for the source.

“Up here, son.”

“You… _the sorting hat_?” Tooru says, incredulous. Indeed, the old, ratty hat that sat on Tooru’s head for a few solid seconds before deciding his house is atop a dusty shelf in the headmaster’s office.

‘So that’s where it stays every year,’ Tooru thinks.

“Hmm…Oikawa Tooru, right?” says The Hat. “Bright, ambitious mind. You were an easy one to sort. I assume Slytherin has done you well?”

Tooru nods as the hat stares expectantly at him.

“You fly high, but your dreams fly even higher,” adds The Hat, repeating what he said to Tooru over five years ago. “Keep on striving for it, and you’ll definitely achieve what you set out to do.”

Tooru chuckles lowly, a smile curving at the corner of his lips. “I’m going to be the best Seeker Great Britain has ever seen, and I’ll settle for no less.” He’s sure that his fixation on this particular goal was what made him an easy sorting for The Hat.

The hat laughs boisterously. “Kids nowadays are so entertaining. I’ll look forward to it, Oikawa Tooru.” Afterwards, The Hat goes still, signaling the end of their conversation. Tooru diverts his attention elsewhere…

“A mirror?” Tooru says to himself, amused. He never took Nekomata to be vain enough to place a mirror in his workspace, but he supposes there’s a side to everyone that he doesn’t know. The mirror is ancient and ornate, with clawed feet and a gold frame with an inscription spanning the top:

“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi,” Tooru reads aloud. It’s not in English or Japanese; if Tooru had to guess, maybe Latin. He checks out his reflection, rearranging himself to look as smart as possible before the headmaster arrives. He takes out a comb from his robe pocket to flatten his hair, but when he looks up again his reflection his gone.

And in his place stands a taller, older-looking Oikawa Tooru, beaming back at him with his pearly whites.

Tooru is flabbergasted. Sure, he wasn’t expecting a muggle mirror, but a mirror that shows the future is rare even in the magical world. He could only wonder how Nekomata acquired such a powerful artifact.

He waves at the mirror. Future-Tooru waves back.

Once Tooru’s brain has processed the situation, excitement quickly replaces his surprise, and he steps forward to get closer.

“Can you talk to me?” He asks, but Future-Tooru only continues to smile at him. Perhaps not, then. But that does nothing to diminish his incredulity. He wonders how far forward in the future this is— the Tooru in the mirror still looks young and strong, almost looking exactly the same as the present Tooru, but taller, so Tooru would guess around a decade. Though Future-Tooru has considerably more muscle mass; with his pectorals and biceps clearly defined against the compression shirt he’s wearing…

Tooru gasps.

He only just realizes it, but Future-Tooru is wearing a professional Quidditch uniform!

It’s not just any professional Quidditch team too, but the National team; shown by the flag sewn onto his right chest. The icing on the cake is the golden snitch clasped in one of Future-Tooru’s hand— he’s the national team’s Seeker.

Tooru is beside himself with giddiness. His heart thundering, Tooru reaches out to touch the mirror, yearning to get more than just a glimpse of such a bright future. But then Future-Tooru suddenly turns back, and Tooru follows the former’s gaze to see another man materializing in the mirror to take his place beside Future-Tooru’s side. 

There’s no mistaking that coarse, untamed hair cropped behind his ears and that sun-kissed skin. Most of all are those warm, green eyes, looking straight at Future-Tooru with enough devotion that Tooru feels something stir viscerally within him. 

“Iwa-chan?” Tooru whispers, shocked.

Future-Hajime opens his arms out, and Future-Tooru falls into them, wrapping his own arms around Future-Hajime’s waist. When the former looks up, it’s with a smile so radiant, so wide; the sheer happiness is almost palpable to the teenage Tooru currently gawking at them.

He doesn’t even remember being that happy before.

Future-Hajime pecks Future-Tooru on the lips, and Tooru just stands there, watching his strong future-self: almighty captain and Seeker of the Scottish National team, crumple with embarrassment with his hands over his face. Future-Hajime laughs and tries to peel Future-Tooru’s hands off his face.

Tooru’s chest constricts.

Yearning. Hope. Envy. Love. A lot of emotions are swirling inside Tooru. Everything he has ever wanted is presented right here in front of him, in this future vision. All he has to do is strive for it, as The Hat said, right?

But with regards to his long-time crush on his childhood friend, Tooru doesn’t know where to even _start._ He so badly wants the outcome presented to him in the mirror, because he doesn’t remember a time when he wasn’t far gone for the boy who had always been by his side. He covers it up with flirtatious antics to his fan club, but ultimately, it’s always been Iwaizumi for him.

“How do I get you to love me back?” Tooru asks Future-Hajime.

Predictably, no one answers him. Future-Hajime and Future-Tooru are now kissing hotly, hands groping over not-so-innocent places. Tooru finds himself unable to turn away, fixated on the way their bodies just seem to fit each other so perfectly. Tooru’s heart skips a beat, maybe more, as fire-hot desire ignites from within him at how reverent it feels.

And when they separate, looking at one another with flushed faces and lidded eyes filled with shining adoration, it’s like the rest of the world ceases to exist for them.

Tooru swallows. All he can think of right now is _Hajime, Hajime, Hajime._

At the sight of Future-Tooru with his head thrown back, bare neck exposed for Future-Hajime, he feels a tingle in his nether regions, spreading down his legs to the tips of his toes. Horrified, but unable to tear his eyes away, he continues to watch Future-Hajime mar his neck as he runs hands up under Future-Tooru’s shirt—

“Oikawa-kun!”

The calling of his name jerks Oikawa’s gaze away from the mirror. His head snaps to the source of the voice to see Headmaster Nekomata hurriedly walking down the steps from the entryway, apologizing for his tardiness.

“It’s all right, Headmaster, I only just arrived,” Tooru tells him, slightly breathless.

Numbly, Tooru looks at the old man’s face as he comes to terms with the current reality. Here, he is not part of the National team, nor has he claimed Iwaizumi as his own. Suddenly, he feels as if he would cry.

“Ah, I see you’ve discovered one of Hogwart’s greatest treasures,” Nekomata says with a chuckle, walking over to Tooru and the mirror.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” Tooru says automatically. For what, he doesn’t know. But he hopes that Nekomata didn’t see Tooru peeping on his future self in a passionate embrace with his partner. His palms sweat with anticipation, and he proceeds to wipe them on his robes.

Nekomata waves him off. “No need to apologize. Well, care to tell this old man what you saw in this mirror?”

“It’s not your average mirror, is it,” Tooru hedges. He looks back at the mirror. Future-Tooru and Future-Hajime are gone, replaced with the reflections of himself and Nekomata.

“Smart boy.” Nekomata comes up to stand beside Tooru. “This mirror reflects back to you your deepest desire.”

“Pardon?”

Upon seeing the surprise on Tooru’s face, Nekomata lets out a bark of laughter. “It’s not very evident, aside from those who are very in tune with their emotions. Read the inscription above.”

“Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi,” Tooru says, feeling stupid. “What language is it, sir?”

“Not any,” Nekomata replies. “‘ _I show you not your face, but your heart’s desire’._ The Mirror of Erised shows your deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.”

“Sir?”

“The happiest and most satisfied person in the world would look in the mirror and see a reflection of them, exactly as they were.” 

Understanding flickers in Tooru’s mind, followed by encompassing disappointment. So what he saw isn’t the future, but his deepest desires: he wants to become the best Seeker in the country, so the mirror gave him the position of captain of the Scottish National Quidditch team;

He wants _Hajime_ , so the mirror gave that to him, exactly.

“So what I saw—it’s not true, is it?” Tooru manages, thankful that his voice didn’t croak. He looks at the mirror; a face of crushing disappointment and heartbreak and sadness—his own— stares back.

Nekomata’s looks at him knowingly, his eyes twinkling. “It might be.”

“What’s that mean, sir?”

Nekomata steps up to the mirror. “When I look into the mirror, I see myself…holding a pair of soft, woolen socks that someone gifted to me for Christmas. Perhaps, if someone actually does, then this image would change.”

“You see yourself…receiving socks,” Tooru repeats, and the disbelief must have shown on his face, for Nekomata laughs, patting Tooru on the shoulder.

“Once you’re old and gray like me, you won’t ask for much. Come sit, we have much to discuss.” Nekomata gestures to the armchair in front of his desk.

Right. So distracted was Tooru by the mirror, he actually forgot why he’s here. Regretfully, Tooru moves away from the mirror to sit in the chair as directed, while Nekomata himself sits at his desk across from Tooru.

“Oikawa-kun, do you like Quidditch?” Nekomata begins, and it catches Tooru off-guard. Still, he recovers, and answers smoothly.

“Yes sir.”

“Professor Irihata has mentioned that you are looking into a career in Quidditch, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

Nekomata nods approvingly. With a wave of his hand, a letter appears on his desk. He picks it up and wordlessly hands it over to Tooru.

_“The Argentine Quidditch association?”_ Tooru exclaims. He turns the envelope over. “Can I open it?”

“Of course you may, son, it’s addressed to you after all.”

With nimble fingers, Tooru picks open the seal, pulls out a piece of heavy, scented parchment, and reads:

_To Tooru Oikawa,_

_I would like to hereby invite you to train with my team, Club Athletico San Juan, for a trial period spanning the months June, July and August. Attached to this letter is a list of our accomplishments and accreditations._

_Looking forward to hearing your reply,_

_Jose Blanco_

_Head Coach_

_Club Athletico San Juan_

“Sir, what’s this about?” Tooru says amidst his confusion. He flips to the second piece of parchment, and learns that Club Athletico San Juan is one of the top Quidditch teams in the Argentine league.

“Blanco is a very good friend of mine, and he happened to be in the area during the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw match. I invited him in for tea and to spectate the match. He took a liking to you, Oikawa-kun, and expressed his interest in recruiting you as talent.”

“Me?” Tooru stammers, his mind flashing back to the last official match he played. Sure, he caught the snitch, but he didn’t remember pulling any fancy-schmancy moves that would catch the eye of any recruiters. In fact, he was rather nondescript that game, only swooping in the final five minutes for the snitch. “Everyone played well that game.”

“It was a fine match indeed, a very close game,” Nekomata comments. “I assure you, I played no role in his interest in you, Tooru-kun. He asked me of his own accord whom the Slytherin Seeker was.”

A bubble of laughter bursts from Tooru. He’s happy, giddy, even smug, because the head coach for a team in the Argentine league is interested in _him_. Not Ushijima, not Kageyama, but plain, ordinary Tooru.

“How do I reply back to him?” Tooru asks, barely able to contain his excitement as he looks up at the Headmaster. He’s given this opportunity of a lifetime—to train with a professional coach and a professional team—and he’ll be damned if he wastes it.

“First, go and discuss this with your parents, get their express approval. I trust that two weeks is sufficient for you to think this through?”

“Yes sir.”

* * *

Tooru leaves Headmaster Nekomata’s office, his mind hyperactive with the news he has just received. It’s the start of dinner time, so Tooru heads straight to the Great Hall, where he knows his friends are.

Sure enough, he sees them gathered at the Slytherin table: Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa, along. Tooru’s heart palpitates, a jolt of excitement shoots through him.

He strides over to his friends, Jose Blanco’s offer at the tip of his tongue.

Then he falters.

He thinks to himself, what _would_ he actually say to them: ‘ _Hey, we can’t spend summer vacation together because I’ll be playing Quidditch in Argentina, bye’?_

Tooru shakes his head. Somehow, that feels too crass. Even though he knows his friends will be nothing but supportive, a sinking feeling takes over him and dampens his excitement at the thought of being away from them for three whole months.

_Especially Iwa-chan_ , Tooru’s traitorous mind supplies. He and Iwa-chan have been inseparable since they were in diapers _,_ with their families being close friends. He looks at Iwaizumi at their table, laughing along with Hanamaki and Matsukawa, and suddenly, Jose Blanco’s idea sounds less of a good idea now.

But before Tooru can wage war inside his own head, a hand clamps down on his shoulder. Tooru almost screams in shock. “Why’re you just standing here like a lost child?”

“Kuroo!” Tooru yells at the other boy, who lets out a hyena-like laughter in response.

That gets Iwaizumi’s attention. He swivels around in his seat at the sound of Tooru’s voice, finding him in a matter of seconds.

The moment their eyes meet, Tooru’s a goner.

He follows Kuroo back to the Slytherin table.

“Oikawa, that was quick.” Iwaizumi says through a mouthful of potatoes. There’s a spot of gravy at the corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth, and Tooru barely manages to stop his traitorous hand from wiping it off.

Tooru takes care not to show any outward signs as the images from the mirror of Erised flash through his mind. It hurts to think that he and Iwaizumi could never be what he envisioned, for what he saw is merely a projection of his heart’s desire. Regardless, he has to properly play the role of ‘best friend’, lest Iwaizumi catch on, and that is the last thing Tooru would allow happen.

“What did Nekomata…want…” Tooru doesn’t let Iwaizumi finish his sentence before slumping over him and putting his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“The fuck Shittykawa, are you in trouble?” When Tooru does not respond, Iwaizumi follows up with a nudge to his ribs, the brute.

“Iwa-chan, let me just…for a minute?” Tooru says, almost pleading, snuggling even closer to Iwaizumi. Tooru basks in the comfort of familiarity Iwaizumi brings, his heady scent, his sturdy shoulders, his warmth.

A few beats of silence later, Iwaizumi gives in, leaning back onto Tooru, their thighs on one another, their fingers brushing in unprecedented intimacy. Tooru’s heart soars, an airy feeling taking over him as his worries about his impending Quidditch stint melts away from his mind.

“Did something happen? You’re acting pretty weird,” Iwaizumi murmurs, his voice sending steady vibrations to Tooru’s head currently resting on his shoulder. Without even needing to look at him, Tooru feels his worry emanating in waves.

But Tooru does anyway, because no matter how many times Tooru stares at that rugged face and those determined green eyes, the novelty has never worn off, only increased in proportion to the love he feels for his best friend.

Tooru does want to tell him. He will, some day: not just Jose Blanco’s offer and what it could mean for his future career, what it could mean for their relationship; but also the deep-seated affection he harbored for the other since even before he understood what it even meant.

However, that day isn’t today.

Tooru tilts his head away to watch Hanamaki stuff his face with dessert, a smile painting his face soft. “No. Nothing at all.”

For now, this is fine.


End file.
